William Shakespeare's original play, rewritten as an easy-to-read book.
This is meant for students who have to read the book for school but don't want to read the original text.
After a mysterious ship wreck, The King of Naples and his noblemen are...
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Not less than a mile away from the distresses of the Noble and less-noblemen on the sinking ship was a great island. On it, a young woman was watching as the quite-large ship sunk to its doom.
Her heart started to race, and she came to a sudden realisation. She looked across from the hill she was on to a cliff ahead, and sure enough saw what she was looking for.
She ran as fast as she could to the cliff, trying to get to it before the ship took its final and ultimate plunge.
When she finally got to the Cliffside, she saw Prospero, her father, with his staff high in the air and his cloak blowing in the wind behind him.
She ran up to him and yelled over the high winds, "Dear father, if you caused this terrible storm with your magic powers, please put an end to it! The sky's so dark, it looks like it would rain down boiling hot tar if the sea weren't swelling up to the sky to put its fire out. Oh, I suffered along with all the men I watched suffer! A fine ship, with some good people in it, I'm sure, smashed to pieces. Their dying shouts broke my heart! The poor people died. If I'd been a god I would've let the sea sink inside the earth before it had a chance to swallow up that ship and all the people it was carrying!"
Prospero, lowering his staff causing the black sky to dissipate into the cool blue one which had been hiding, looked to his daughter and said in a calm voice, "Calm down. There's nothing to get upset about. No harm was done."
His daughter, Miranda, looked out to the sea to see the ship had been completely eaten up by the unforgiving sea.
"Oh, what a horrible day!" she shouted.
Prospero put a hand on Miranda's shoulder and led her back to their shack, which was a grand wooden abode built into the side of a mountain.
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"There was no harm, I'm telling you. Everything I've done has been for you, my dear daughter. You don't know what you are, since you don't know who I am or where I come from, or that I'm better than merely Prospero, your humble father who lives in a poor little shack." He said to her as they walked.
